


walking, running stereotypes

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), SM Entertainment | SMTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The entire morning is kind of a blur too -- she gets to work, her boss passes her a piece of paper with an address and it's kind of like godspeed! or whatever. She could fight it. She is convinced she's allergic to nature, so she's screwed if he actually lives in the woods or whatever the rumor is.</i>
</p><p>Everyone has a love-hate relationship with their job. Seulgi just hates doing the math.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walking, running stereotypes

The call wakes her up ten minutes into her cab ride back from the airport. Which means it's work and the driver isn't going to overcharge her again, like the last time. Seulgi is already irrationally angry anyway. She hates flying. This isn't a secret.

"Hello," she says blearily. There is an unopened face mask in her lap. If it's her mom, she's going to have to tell the driver to change routes and then she's going to be overcharged again, for real this time, for something stupid like her mom and her grandmother not getting along over the family's ancient china or whatever.

"You're back," Youngji greets.

The actual statement registers and her shoulders sink into the seat at the sound of her best friend's voice.

"Oh," she says. Her eyes start to flicker close. "It's you. Thank god."

Youngji laughs. "Let me guess, you just got off the plane."

"I'm in a cab. Regretting my life choices."

"As usual then," Youngji says dryly. "Seungwan said that your trip went well though."

Seulgi checks her watch to make sure that it says two am and not ten because there is no godforsaken reason why Youngji should even be coherent at this time of day. She plugs her earbuds into her phone and checks the weather; the sun is going to rise at six-thirty or something like that.

"You're not calling to talk about my trip though," she says, tone warming. Her eyes narrow. "Or the fact that I spent an entire week covering a music festival in Texas. Or kept sending you pictures of Mexican food."

"I hate you for that," Youngji says breezily. "But yeah, sure. For the sake of this conversation and your reporter juju, let's say I'm calling about work. At two am."

There is it is. "Yah," she begins, grasping at the situation. "I'm not an idiot." The facts are as simple as they were to begin with: Youngji sits at the news desk now, a rising star to such a broad and terrifying area, and she has stuck to behind the scenes, reporting and interviewing fashion and music stars in a much smaller, comfortable niche. "You only call me when you've heard something," she says slowly.

"I just had a second date with Jackson," Youngji says with amusement. "Which wasn't a date, even though --" she pauses, sighing and Seulgi has no clue where she's going with this. "Anyways. Apparently they're going to ask you to interview JB from his group. Er, well. Im Jaebum the actor."

"What happened to your international news coverage," she says dryly. She wracks her brain for a face for the name though; JB, JB, Im Jaebum, she remembers. "You mean the idol turned actor who now lives in the woods or whatever?"

"He doesn't live in the woods, Seulgi-ah." Youngji's exasperated. "He lives in the city. And I only know this because I have an eonni that works in entertainment and she knows that I know you."

Seulgi groans. She hates how everyone in the industry knows each other, coupled with the fact that news and entertainment cannot escape each other.

"I'm going to wait until I hear that tomorrow," she mutters. She tries to visualize Im Jaebum for a moment -- has she seen anything he's in? Probably not. She hasn't watched a good drama since high school anyway.

Her head still falls back against the seat again.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she tells Youngji.

Remember the facts.

 

 

 

 

 

So yeah, okay, she does have an interview. 

The entire morning is kind of a blur too -- she gets to work, her boss passes her a piece of paper with an address and it's kind of like godspeed! or whatever. She could fight it. She is convinced she's allergic to nature, so she's screwed if he actually lives in the woods or whatever the rumor is. But her boss looks at her a certain way and she reminds herself, at least twice, that she really, really likes her job.

Two things: she gets lost on her way to his apartment, which is not her fault, but buys a gift because hey, weirdly enough, she feels that she's obligated to since her boss is like "Dude, he never opens his house to anyone -- ANYONE, Seulgi-ah --" and she can only narrow her eyes and mutter some kind of reprieve to get out of the office.

Two more things: she doesn't actually buzz herself in or announce her presence, but gets a lucky catch and grabs the door, nodding in agreement when an older woman whispers to her daughter _oh she looks like she's visiting a boyfriend_ which, well, is weird; she will only admit to checking her lipstick once.

One thing: she looked him up on the Internet and he's cute. For a recluse.

When she reaches the fifth floor, she takes a moment to breathe and then reaches forward, pressing the intercom button. She gets a muffled _yes_ and sighs. She's nervous and hates that she's nervous.

"Hi," she greets. She digs her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. "It's, erm --" she begins desperately, then stops because dude, this is stupid. "I'm from Dazed. I'm a few minutes early and I feel a little awkward in the hallway just talking to the intercom."

This is all for propriety's sake. She hates feeling like she's walking into an unknown situation.

The door opens and she remembers a quote first. _I'd like to live quietly. Or keep living quietly_. It takes her another minute to realize that she's looking at Im Jaebum and not Im Jaebum's housekeeper which, by the way, is what she talked herself into expecting on her way over here.

"Hey," he acknowledges with an awkward smile.

"Hi," she says again, or manages. 

They stare at each other. Then she nearly drops her bag, fumbling with the strap.

"You should probably come in." She can't tell whether or not he's amused or not.

"That's the idea," Seulgi mutters, then follows him inside for lack of anything else to say. 

She pretends to look anywhere but him until he puts a pair of slippers in front of her, then takes her jacket and hangs it up in a closet. She expects a publicist or a handler or someone to pop out, like usual, and offer her coffee and the ground rules. But she can only bring herself to kick off her boots and replace them with slippers.

His house is quiet. It's deceivingly large; she likes the open, wide windows and the piano, which seems way too atypical for the legion of actor-idols that she's interviewed before; the kitchen is naked and skewed with metal seating and two, long bench tables which, she thinks, means that he has to have some kind of company over. She realizes too that she's sort of stopped and that she's staring, openly, at everything and that he's watching her stare too.

"You're smaller than I thought you'd be," he says and she whirls around, half caught, her eyes narrowed. "I mean," he says holding his hands up, "people always make you out to be this larger than life, intimidating personality."

She snorts. "And here, I thought I was going to have to interview you in a tent in the woods."

Jaebum laughs, like really laughs, and walks to the kitchen. He pours two glasses of water and hands her one, leading her to one of the long tables.

"So let's do this," he says.

She eyes him warily. "All right," she agrees and reminds herself that she hasn't exactly prepared for any of this and instead of sleeping, read everything she could on the Internet about him. The bad boy image was an accident. He's actually really shy, according to his fans. He's a dancer which, well, _duh_. He's had a girlfriend and a half which, well, she's almost tempted to ask him what the hell that means.

Seulgi tosses her notebook on the table. She takes a sip from her water and crosses her legs.

"No tape recorder?"

She snorts. "Nope," she says. "I'm too accident prone for them. The last one I had when I actually started interviewing musicians, I accidentally threw into the river. And it was never seen again."

He laughs. "Oh?"

She feels herself relax. "I'm old fashioned, I guess." She shrugs, pointing to her notebook. "I like stationary, I guess."

He smiles at her. She distantly registers her thoughts as deeming him _handsome_ and she's sort of stunned, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"So you're not a hermit."

Jaebum shrugs. "I blame Jackson," he says. "And Jinyoung. One of them made some comment about me being a loner and that sort of stuck. I'm also not a vampire."

Seulgi keeps a straight face. "That remains to be seen."

"True." 

They stare at each other. It's so stupid, but part of her feels like she's on some bizarre version of a first date. Musicians are weird. Actors are even weirder.

"I watched one of your dramas," she tells him, looking away and out into the view. The city is still bright and she studies the plants that line the wall of his balcony. "Congratulations," she says dryly. "I haven't watched one since high school."

"Which one?" he asks, leaning forward.

"The one about a ghost," she says. She meets his gaze again. She studies his expression. He's never once looked away from her, she thinks. His eyes are intense and it's kind of freaking her out a little. "But you weren't really a ghost, you were in a coma and the lead girl had to rescue you or whatever. You were actually ..." she pauses, almost dramatically, watching as he leans further against the table. "You were funny," she finishes. "It was a surprise."

"Thanks," he says. He smiles too and she knows that she's screwed.

They've barely scratched the surface.

 

 

 

 

 

Early afternoon gives way to an early evening and they've moved from the kitchen space to the balcony, talked about his acting method and how it's his mother that waters his plants because he is so, so terrible at taking care of them and it gives her an excuse to visit.

He's charming, for sure, and she finds herself watching him and noting every little thing she can unearth about him. He bites his lip when he's uncomfortable. He never not looks her directly in the eyes. He's polite. He hasn't let her once get up for her own water and has made sure that she has, at least, had some of the fruit.

"So," she starts, finally, nervously, approaching the end. She flips open to a new page in her notebook. "You had an interview --" she pauses when he groans, as if he knows exactly what she's going to ask. Her lips curl and she crosses her legs. "What did you mean by living quietly?"

It takes him a moment. She waits patiently. She has two missed calls from Youngji; she knows that her Jackson is his Jackson. Seulgi hates that her world is getting smaller, but takes it in stride. Mostly.

"I think," he says slowly, "being as I basically grew up in the industry, you see a lot of things that you just can't un-see. Some people can handle it -- it's fast, the pace is almost cruel, you have to deal with your own reality hand in hand with the burdens of being famous. You see a lot of people lose it and you see a lot of people sacrifice their own happiness for their fans' and the money and all things that seem real and tangible in the beginning."

"But," she says.

"But," he echoes. "It loses its luster pretty fast." Jaebum shakes his head. "I'm really lucky. I have a really great, group of friends that are basically family to me. I get to do what I love, sing and act. I have fans that are amazing."

"That sounds like the publicist's answer."

It strikes her that his expression is changing, opening right in front of her and she can only think _why me_ because ultimately, this is terrifying and confusing and she's never been really good at getting close like this. This is why she is so successful at her job. It's never personal.

His mouth curls.

"Let's have dinner first," he says.

And when he stands and she sits back, she thinks: _this is really weird_. She feels like she is out of place and that hasn't happened in the longest time.

 

 

 

 

 

They do have dinner.

You can fact check that.

 

 

 

 

 

"When does the article come out?"

Youngji sits in front of her, slides a coffee across the table. Seulgi shrugs and takes the coffee, leaning back in her seat. It's cruelly some time after six am, on a Saturday no less, and they are supposed to run, but only made it to the coffee shop between their apartments.

"Next week," she answers. Her exercise leggings feel a little too warm and she stretches her arms out. "I sent him a rough draft last night."

Youngji raises an eyebrow. "You did," she asks slowly. She gets this gleam in her eyes too. "That's big ... of you."

"Shut up." Seulgi squirms. "It was the weirdest interview experience I ever had," she says and it feels like a confession. "I don't need you to add to it."

Her best friend laughs, her hands rising in mock surrender. "I'm just saying," Youngji says. "It's not like you."

She can only glare and change the subject. Because she knows it's true. It's awkward, even thinking about it. She has one rule: never date anyone in entertainment and that was broken once, years ago, when she decided that dating a sunbae was a good idea until the fans and the online commenting got to be too much. She's seen the other side when it's gotten that dark and that ugly and quickly; it's something that she swore she'd never do again.

"He was really charming," is all she says, sipping her coffee. "And he emailed me back and said that he liked the article, so. I did my job."

Youngji searches her gaze and then follows her back into a subject change, talking about the news and the education system, talking about Youngji's latest story and their class reunion. 

Her phone rings somewhere in between their conversation and Youngji seems to sigh, picking up her phone too and trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Hello," Seulgi says and there is a sigh of relief. "Hello?" she asks again, when there is no immediate response.

"... hey." It comes a little while after and she's stuck, torn between instant recognition, suspicion, and glaring at Youngji. She knows she only kept work information to her email. "Sorry," Jaebum apologizes. "I got Jackson to beg for your number."

"Oh." She eyes Youngji warily. The other woman smirks a little. "I bet he didn't have to go very far for that," she says.

Jaebum laughs. "Are you busy?"

"No," she says slowly. 

"Want to go for a walk?" he asks, and she almost says _with you?_ but stops herself because this is not the first time she's talked to him. There are tiny knots in her stomach, fluttering too. "If you want," he adds awkwardly.

"Sure," she finds herself saying. Youngji's smile grows suspiciously wider. "I guess I could go and walk."

It can't be a thing. There's just no way it's anything near being a thing. It feels different though and she listens, vaguely, as he recites directions to a park that she knows and agrees to head over there as soon as she finishes her coffee. It feels a little reckless too, but she's never going to admit that out loud because that seems like something stupid when nothing has happened to begin with.

So she says goodbye to Youngji, grabs the rest of her coffee and heads to the park, trying to recite possibilities and probabilities of things that they could talk about. The knots are still there in her belly though, graduating into some kind of flush. She doesn't wait long though and watches as he appears, cap over his eyes, heading in her direction at a waiting bench by a view of the river.

"Hi," he greets, and she just offers him a smile.

They start to walk. There is no particular direction. She dimly recognizes that she should have grabbed him a coffee too, but she never remembers stupid, necessary details like that.

"You could have asked for my number," she tells him, amused. The roof of her mouth feels a little sticky. "I would have given it to you, you know."

He meets her gaze, grinning. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Her face feels warm and she tosses her cup into a passing trashcan. "Even though I have a rule."

He laughs and the sound is warm. It makes her fidget with the sleeves of her jacket.

"You have a rule?"

She nods, resolute. 

"Does it work for you?" he asks too and he reaches out, just grabbing her hand. It takes her awhile to realizes that she lets him; it's like this: his palm presses into hers, his fingers curl into the back of her hand, and it's stupid, but it feels like the most romantic thing that's ever happened to you.

"Not right now," she mutters and looks away.

He tugs her a little closer and they walk around a couple that is jogging, talking and panting into an argument. She's nervous, she realizes. That unnerves her. Her chest feels a little tight.

"Good," Jaebum says. "Because I'm breaking my rules too."

Seulgi blinks and looks up at him. "You do look like you have a lot of rules for yourself."

He smiles down at her, like really smiles, beyond that earth-shattering way that millions and millions of women and girls fall and wish for. She doesn't know what to do or how to look away because it's not her style, you know, gawking.

But her feet come to a stop and she think stupid things like he's too tall for her to do this and oh god, oh god oh Seulgi-ah, as she rises onto the tips of her toes, gripping his hand like it's really what is holding her together. Her mouth hits his. Her lips feel dry and there's this weird regret until he laughs and sighs and is kissing her back without really hesitating.

"See," she mumbles against his mouth, "here I am and I'm rule- _breaking_ like a pro --"

"Like a pro," he agrees, biting at her lip and she makes this soft, sudden noise, dropping back to her heels. His hand sneaks around the end of her braid. "I thought I'd have to take you to dinner first --"

"Just shut up."

He laughs and she's kissing him again, first _again_ , not that it really matters. Those knots are up and around and dizzying at full force, crawling into her belly as she slides her tongue into his mouth and then licks away at his lip. She's impatient and irrational and god, if this ends up on the Internet she is so, so _dead_. Whatever, right?

Then he breaks back, holding her close. "I met you once," he confesses, then and there and if she's surprised, she doesn't know it. Any sort of sensation leaves her, the moment he looks at her and his expression curbs into handsome and serious. "At a party," he tells her. "You were wearing this pretty blue dress and talking about how at the end of the day, you just wanted to interview someone honestly -- and eat really good Mexican food."

She snorts, shaky. "That sounds like me."

"You came with Youngji," he finishes. "And I don't know. I guess, I figured that using work was a good excuse to get to see you."

She doesn't tell him that she doesn't remember the party -- and maybe she will, later on, where she's had time to process the fact that she's just mixed work and play, which is like a golden rule and she does. not. give. a. damn. Or anything like that. The thing is (and, she thinks, there is a thing) he seems too honest and suddenly impossibly young that she can't really say anything and not feel like a mirror image. She bites her lip and laughs. Then she shakes her head, dropping it against her shoulder.

"I'm not that girl," she says, and it feels a little like a warning. "That gets like this," she finishes awkwardly.

She wonders if he tastes her coffee. Jaebum just laughs.

"Makes two of us," he says.

They finish that walk, his arm around her shoulders and his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

 

 

 

 

 

The article comes out on a Thursday. Online before print. The stats are a little bit unreal; she tries not to read too many of the comments and gets a call from his company, thanking her for a really positive, warm (them, not her) spin on one of their acting gems (again them, not her) which almost, almost gets her to confess that she spent most of her Friday morning making out with said acting gem. But professional secrets, you know.

She doesn't actually tell him about it until their third date, that day, when she actually go and call it a third date even though they're standing in a sporting goods store, staring at camping gear because everything in her life, lately is about irony.

They're a slow burn, she decides. And not a bang or a whimper. She likes that, she decides to.

"I've never gone camping with anyone," she tells him, shoving the print version of the article into his hand. Jaebum arches an eyebrow and she shrugs. "Consider yourself lucky," she says.

He laughs when he reads the title. _Into the woods_.


End file.
